REPRISE
by Crunch13
Summary: Bsshir is now a regular visitor to the Tozhat Resettlement Centre on Bajor. On this occasion, plain and simple Garak decides to join him - but not everyone is pleased to see him.
1. Chapter 1

This is a re-write of a story that originally appeared in '_The Tailoring _Times'. It takes place towards the end of the second season – after the episodes '_Cardassians'_ and '_The Wire'_.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or the characters but the typos, bad grammar and other boo-boos are all mine!

*** * * * * * * ***

**REPRISE - CHAPTER 1**

Doctor Julian Bashir stowed his baggage in the runabout and made his way forward to the pilot's seat. The back of a familiar head could be seen above the headrest of the other seat.

"Garak! What on earth are you doing here?"

The Cardassian turned in his seat to face the Doctor, his eyes bright with amusement at Bashir's entirely predictable surprise. "Well, I thought over what you said about the Tozhat Resettlement Centre needing help with its computers and communication system and decided that I could spare some time after all. Besides, I would enjoy a walk in the sunshine and fresh air, even if it is on Bajor rather than Cardassia – but then, we can't always have everything we want, can we? However, if you would rather I didn't accompany on your visit ..."

"No, of course not!" Bashir hastened to reassure his friend. "But what about your shop? Is someone looking after your customers for you?"

"My dear Doctor, I was hardly going to announce the fact that I would be leaving the Station, and for a visit to Bajor of all places, was I? I'm sure that my shop will be just fine and as for my customers, difficult as it may be for them, they will just have to struggle on without me for a few days."

Bashir laughed but was then suddenly serious. "Thank you." He reached out and squeezed Garak's shoulder. "Your help will mean a lot to the Resettle ..." He paused, then continued quietly as though speaking to himself, "Resettlement Centre? Now there's a euphemism if ever there was one! What chance have any of the war orphans there of ever actually being resettled?" He squeezed Garak's shoulder again. "Your help will mean a lot to the children, Bajoran and Cardassian, and to me as well. They have so little it makes me feel totally inadequate every time I visit them - and yet, I can't not go." The helplessness he felt was reflected in his expression, he looked away trying to regain his composure.

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Doctor," said Garak softly. "I do understand."

Bashir looked back and met Garak's eyes. "Yes, I believe you do - _now_ – but there was a time when I wouldn't have."

"We have both come a long way since then."

"Yes, **WE** have." Bashir's usual good humour was now fully restored as he took his seat. "Right, let's go!"


	2. Chapter 2

**REPRISE – CHAPTER 2**

At the end of an uneventful flight to Bajor, Bashir set the runabout down in a field next to the orphanage.

"My compliments on a very smooth flight and an even smoother landing, Doctor. You know, I rather think you may have missed your real vocation."

Bashir snorted in fake indignation. "Well now, I don't know whether to be flattered or not. Am I to take that as a genuine compliment or an indictment of my medical skills!"

"Oh, the former, I assure you! But that's not to say that you're not an excellent physician as well!"

"In that case why are you always in such a hurry to get out of the Infirmary?"

"Well, you know what they say about having too much of a good thing ..."

"Yes, that you can never get enough!"

"Really? If that's true, then why do they also say that doctors always make the worse patients?"

"Touché!" Bashir bowed his head in mock defeat. He shut down the engines and rose from his seat. "Coming?"

Garak hung back, hesitating. "I'll collect the supplies and follow you. I rather think that you'll have some explaining to do before introducing me."

The Doctor inhaled and grimaced. "I'd forgotten about that but you're quite right." He took a deep breath, steeling himself for his meeting with Miss Deela, the orphanage's administrator. "Oh well, here we go."

The squeals of excited children could be heard as they ran toward the runabout. Doctor Bashir was always a most welcome visitor. He was one of the few outsiders the children knew they had no need to fear and they also knew that he always had a treat for them, usually in the form of sweets. As the door opened they surged forward in greeting. "Hello, children, how are you this fine morning." He stepped down from the runabout and was immediately surrounded by the throng of children, each one vying for his attention.

He looked up he heard a woman call out to the children to calm down, and tried to summon a smile as she stepped forward to greet him.

"Doctor Bashir, how nice to see you again!"

"Deela, it's nice to be here." He shook her hand. "I've brought those supplies I promised you on my last visit."

"Oh, thank you! We'll help you carry them."

"Er ... well ... actually ... I've already got some help ...," Della's expression told him that he was too late to break the news gently; she had evidently already caught sight of Garak in the runabout. There was a sudden silence as the Cardassian emerged to join them. "Miss Deela Dal, this is my friend Garak," he tried to keep his tone light and his smile fixed in place. "You met him once before ... when we were trying to find out about Rugal."

"I remember." She nodded. "Why did you bring him here?"

"I didn't 'bring' him, he wanted to come. He offered his assistance – he knows a lot about computers and communication systems. You know that, he repaired one of the computers the first time he came here with me."

"Nevertheless, he shouldn't have come. His presence here could cause trouble for us ... unsettle the children. He shouldn't have come!"

He tried to placate her, "Well, of course, it's entirely your choice. You can either let Garak help now or wait until the Bajoran authorities finally get around to helping you. As you said before, you're not exactly top priority with them. And, I've been told that Starfleet engineers are completely tied up working on the Station and will be for the foreseeable future. So what do you want us to do?"

The silence between them stretched out as Deela considered what the Doctor had said. Of course, she knew that he was right, but to accept assistance from a Cardassian of all people! "Well, as he's here now I suppose he can stay," she conceded grudgingly, reluctance evident in her voice.

"You are entirely too gracious, Madame," Garak bowed deeply. As usual, the more tense the situation, the more amusing he seemed to find it. "How could I possibly refuse such a generous invitation?" he mocked.

Bashir glowered at him. "Yes, well now that's been settled perhaps we can get going?"

"Of course, Doctor. The clinic has been set up for you. We'll be eating at the usual time and you'd be most welcome ..."

"Thank you," Bashir answered quickly for them both before Garak got the chance to speak for himself – it was obvious that his Cardassian friend knew that he was not at all welcome, "we've been looking forward to some home cooking. Haven't we, Garak?"

"Oh, indeed, it's been years since I last enjoyed some real Bajoran hospitality!"

Deela ignored the latest barb, "Come children, Doctor Bashir has work to do."

Garak helped Bashir unload the supplies from the runabout and transfer them to the clinic. When they had finished Garak looked around. He noted that the term 'clinic' was a somewhat exaggerated description of the facility; it was very basic, really no more than a room with a bed, table and a few chairs. When they had finished unpacking the supplies Bashir held out a box. "Here Garak, make yourself useful – give these to the children."

Garak eyed the box suspiciously. "What are they?"

"Junja sticks. The children love them!"

Garak held up his hands, refusing to take the box of sweets. "I ... I would prefer not, Doctor. Thank you." He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Besides, I'm sure that the children would appreciate them all the more coming from you."

Bashir tried to hide his disappointment at Garak's reaction. "All right then." He set the box down on the table. "OK, grab your toolkit and I'll show you where everything is so you can get started with the repairs."


	3. Chapter 3

**REPRISE – CHAPTER 3**

Garak was the first Cardassian adult some of the children had seen in years. At first they watched warily from a distance as he set out his equipment and began to work on one of the computer stations. Gradually however curiosity got the better of them, and almost imperceptibly they moved in closer and closer, gently jostling each other for a better view.

Garak for his part did his best to ignore their inquisitive stares, immersing himself in the task at hand. He thought that they would soon lose interest and leave him alone, but he was wrong. As he reached across the desk his sleeve brushed against the tools lying there, knocking one to the floor. Quick as a flash one of the watching children shot forward and picked it up.

"Sir?" When Garak did not respond the child reached out and tugged at his sleeve for attention. "Sir?"

"Mmmmm?"

"You dropped this."

Garak looked up at the hand that held the instrument. He reached out to the boy, who had it not been for the telltale ridges on his nose would have passed for a full blooded Cardassian, and took the instrument from him. "Thank you, child." With that the boy scurried back to his friends who cast admiring glances in his direction. Garak watched them for several seconds – he recognised one girl as being the one who had asked him on his last visit whether he had come to take them home to Cardassia. He sighed at the memory then, determinedly, pushed it away. It was futile to wallow in pointless emotionalism - he could do no more for them now than he had been able to do then. He returned his attention to his work. Soon the boy moved in closer again and this time several of the others were brave enough to join him.

"What are you doing?"

Garak did not raise his head. "I am attempting to repair your computer."

"Can you do that?" There was a tone of awe and disbelief in the child's voice.

"Oh, it's really quite simple when you know how."

"Can we help you?"

"N.." Garak stopped himself – there was no harm in letting them watch. "No, but you may stay and watch if you wish."

"What are these things?"

"These are the tools I need to repair the computer."

"Can I hand them to you?"

"Very well, if you think you can remember their names...."

"Oh, I can, I can," the boy replied eagerly.

He listened attentively as Garak went through the instruments one by one, naming each. Soon the Cardassian found himself surrounded on all sides by a throng of children watching his every move and hanging on his every word in total silence, before he knew it one little girl had somehow managed to find her way on to his knee. His new found assistant handed him the correct instrument every time on asking.

******* * * * * * * ***

"There, all better now. Didn't hurt a bit, did it?"

"Yes, it did!" The boy replied indignantly as he carefully examined the now almost invisible scar on his knee where moments before a small scratch had been. Bashir laughed and lifted the child down from the table. "Now, go and find your friends." He lightly swatted him on the backside sending him on his way. "Any more patients?"

Deela looked around the waiting room. "No, Doctor, that's all for now." Bashir began to tidy away his medical equipment. "I'll do that for you, Doctor. You should go and get some tea; you haven't had a break all day."

"Thank you, I will." Bashir poured some water into a bowl and began to wash up, as he did so his mind slowly registered that something was missing. For a few seconds, he puzzled over exactly what it was, and then realisation dawned. "The children are very quiet." He picked up a towel and walked to the window, drying his hands as he went. He greeted the sight that met him with amusement. "Well, I'll be .... "

"What is it? What's going on?" demanded Deela anxiously pushing Bashir aside to look. She then turned and tried to push past him again, evidently intent on intervening but he gently held her by the arm. "But, Doctor, do you think the children are safe with him?"

"I rather think the question is: Is he safe with the children?" he laughed. "Cats and children," he mused aloud, "the more you ignore them the more attention they pay you!"

As he watched Garak with the children it suddenly occurred to him that he had never really given any thought to Garak's family ... did he have any? A wife? Children? Surely even the Obsidian Order would not exile a man from both his world** and** his immediately family - particularly given the importance of the family in Cardassian culture? Certainly Garak had never even so much as hinted that he had family but everyone had family – people who cared for them, didn't they? Everyone that is except these war orphans. They were unwanted - no grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no-one, had come forward to take them home

He remembered Garak's words from their first visit to the orphanage when they tried to uncover the mystery surrounding Rugal: '_Children without parents have no status in Cardassian society'_. Perhaps Deela had been right when she said Garak's visit would unsettle the children, how would they react when it was time for Garak to leave and they were rejected once again? They were desperate to go 'home' to Cardassia, but the truth was that Cardassia had no place for these orphans, nor for that matter had Bajor.

Of course, the situation had been explained to the children but they still dreamed of the day when their family, someone, anyone, would come for them, and take them home. They were after all **only** children, something that everyone else involved seemed to have forgotten, how could they be expected to understand? Their exile from Cardassia was even more difficult for them than Garak's; he at least knew what he had done to incur the wrath of the authorities there. The children's only 'crime' was that they had no parents and had been abandoned during the Cardassian withdrawal from Bajor – and now their existence served as a humiliating reminder of Cardassia's failure to keep Bajor under its grip. Garak was strong and knew who he was, what he was - the children didn't and had no role model to follow. They were being raised on Bajor cut off from their Cardassian heritage and customs, but Bajoran society did not want them either. Right now, Cardassia and Bajor were at peace but that meant nothing to the children - would they ever find peace? Commander Sisko had asked Rugal's father, Kotan Pa'Darm, the prominent politician, to help return the Cardassian war orphans to Cardassia, but it was obvious that for all his gratitude Pa'Darm was no more interested in their fate than anyone else, so here they remained.

******* * * * * * * ***

Deela watched as her assistants finished laying the table. "I'll call the children in for their evening meal."

"No need, I'll get them. I'll fetch Garak too." Bashir turned at the involuntary tut of annoyance that escape the Bajoran's lips. He paused in the doorway. "Look, Deela, I know it's difficult for you and I know that it's a lot to ask but I wish you'd at least give Garak a chance. Won't you try to meet him half way? He didn't have to come here you know."

"Maybe he has a guilty conscience!"

"Maybe," Bashir conceded, "or maybe he genuinely wants to help. Please, just give him a chance."

She nodded. "I'll try, that's all I can promise and only because I owe you a great deal."

"You don't owe me anything ... I just want to help in whatever way I can. And so does Garak."

******* * * * * * * ***

"Come on, children, suppertime." Surprisingly the children ignored his call; too intent on watching Garak to realise just how hungry they were. He tried again. "Come on, your supper will be getting cold ... you can come back and watch Garak later. Can't they, Garak?"

"Of course! Now run along." He shooed them away.

"Quite an audience you gathered there ... next time you should sell tickets." Garak laughed. "Are you nearly finished?"

"No, Doctor, not quite. I've repaired the computer terminals but the communications link is still down. Their equipment is rather primitive but from what I can make out it would appear that the fault lies at the relay station just over two kilometres from here. I was about to head over there."

"Will you be able to make it there and back before nightfall?" Bashir sounded concerned. "I've heard it's not safe out after dark, all the more so for a ..."

"A tailor? Everyone's a fashion critic!" Both men laughed aloud. "Oh, I should be back before dark. I don't anticipate finding any major repair problems, or at least none I can't handle."

"Modest as ever! Could you use some company?"

"Safety in numbers, Doctor?" Garak held up his hand to forestall Bashir. "No need to explain. It would be my pleasure. Shall we go?"


	4. Chapter 4

**REPRISE – CHAPTER 4**

Two pairs of eyes watched Bashir and Garak as they left the orphanage enclosure for the relay station.

"See! I told you didn't I? I told you there was a Cardassian here!"

"Yeah yeah, you told me, so what? What do you want – a prize or something?" The older of the two boys made his decision. "We'll follow them, see what they're up to. Then we'll get word to the others. Come on." He reached out and grabbed the younger boy by the shoulder pulling him along. "I said come on! Just keep down and shut up. I don't want them to know they're being followed."

Bashir glanced over his shoulder for the tenth time, a fact that his companion had not missed. Garak followed his gaze but could see nothing except for trees and more trees. "Is there something wrong?"

The human stopped and looked back at the way they had come. He shrugged, "I'm not sure. I just have the feeling that we're being watched. Don't you feel it too?"

"You do have a fertile imagination, don't you! You know, if you keep looking over your shoulder like that you'll wind up with a stiff neck."

"Thank you, Doctor Garak." He caught up with Garak as they reached the crest of the hill. A small building came into view between the trees.

"Ah, here we are at last."

Bashir placed his palm on the lock pad. "Damn!" He gave the door a push. "I don't believe it!"

"Locked?" Garak examined the lock. "No matter - it's a simple mechanism, I'll soon take care of it."

"Oh, so you're a locksmith too now! Rather an odd skill for a tailor, don't you think?"

There was a click and the door slid open. The Cardassian smiled innocently as he stood aside and gestured grandly, "After you."

The boys watched as Bashir and Garak disappeared out of view. "What are they doing?"

"Who cares! I'll stay here and keep an eye on them, you get Jolam and the others. Hurry!" He watched as the younger boy retraced their steps. "And keep down!"

*** * * * * * * ***

It was almost 40 minutes later before Jolam and his gang arrived at the relay station.

"They're still in there! There are two of them, Jolam – the Cardassian and a Federation."

"Two or twenty, it makes no difference, we can handle them. We'll wait for them to come back out and jump them when they come level with us. Now get out of sight, shut up, and wait for my signal!" He watched as the others took cover, then crouched down behind a fallen log and waited for Bashir and Garak to re-emerge. They did not have to wait for long before the sound of approaching voices could be heard..

"NOW! GET THEM!" A dozen bodies hurled themselves forward from the undergrowth. Garak turned at the sound and was knocked to the ground by a blow to the back of his neck. He lay there stunned as several bodies threw themselves upon him, holding him down, while Bashir was grabbed by a number of youths, and a rag tied over his eyes blinding him.

"What the hell?" Bashir struggled vainly with his captors.

"Keep your mouth shut, Federation!" Jolam turned his attention to the fallen Cardassian. "Is he dead?"

"A well aimed kick at Garak's ribs elicited a groan. "Not yet"

"Good, wake him up – we wouldn't want him to miss the fun."

"What do you want?" demanded Bashir.

Jolam grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. "I told you once before – SHUT UP! We've no interest in you, just that animal!" He loosened his grip a little, "But if you give us any trouble you'll get the same!"

"But you can't ..." This time Bashir's protests were rewarded by a backhanded slap across his face.

"Get the Cardassian on his feet." Four pairs of hands grabbed Garak's arms and hauled him to his feet where he stood swaying unsteadily in their grasp. "Well, well, you must be either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to think that you could come here to Bajor and walk about freely as if you own the place. But, we all know Cardassians have no guts, so that must mean you're just incredibly stupid!" The others roared with laughter and jeered at the helpless Cardassian.

"We're here to help, that's all." Bashir licked the blood from his lower lip.

"Oh, we know all about Cardassian help, don't we?" There were angry shouts from the group. "That's how the invasion started ... they came here to help us. Well, we've had all the help we need from these bastards!" Jolam stood face to face with Garak. "We're going to send a message back that all Cardassians will understand!" He pulled a knife from his belt.

"No, wait! I think I know this man!" A youth pushed his way through the group until he stood in front of Garak. He stared at him intently for several seconds then nodded. "I know you." But Garak stayed silent, giving no outward sign of recognition.

"How?" demanded Jolam. "Tell us, Bes, tell us how you could come to know a Cardassian!" Jolam's voice held an edge of accusation.

"It was just before the Cardassians left Bajor. After our parents were killed in a Cardassian attack, my brother and I ran with a street gang. My brother was fourteen, I was ten - we took care of each other. We lived in bombed-out rooms and scrounged for food on the streets. One day five of us were picked up by a Cardassian patrol and taken in for questioning. We were taken before two officers – I was terrified ... crying ... I thought we were going to die. After all, that's usually what happened to our kind. We were questioned for about an hour ... one of the officers hit my brother but he didn't cry, my brother cried for no one!" The obvious pride he felt for his brother shone in his eyes. "But, we couldn't tell them anything, we knew nothing!! The two officers argued over what to do with us, then the other one suddenly threw us back out onto the street. He actually gave us some latinum from his pockets ... he told us to run ... we thought it was a trick but we ran. We ran until we couldn't run anymore!" He paused and swallowed, trying to control his emotions. "My brother and the others were killed the following week when we tried to get away from another patrol, only I made it. The Cardassians began withdrawing only a few weeks later ... a few more weeks ... !" He looked around the group. "Then you found me, Jolam, you and the others – you're my family now." He touched the earring he wore. Garak noted that they all wore identical earrings – a Bajoran sign of family connections and of religious faith.

"Are you saying that this is one of those Cardassian officers?"

"Yes! He's the one who let us go."

"But how can you be sure that he's the one? It was a long time ago and like you said, you were just a kid."

"Oh, believe me, I'll never forget that day or his face – his name was E ... Elim. Yes, that's it! I remember the other officer saying to him, 'Elim, you must be insane!'". He turned back to Garak. "I've always wanted to ask you - why did you let us go like that?"

The Bajoran even knew his name, there was no point in denying the event. Garak smiled, "Oh, believe me there was no altruistic motive on my part – that room was freezing cold and my stomach was growling. All I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal – throwing you back onto the street was the quickest and easiest way to be rid of you."

Bes drew back, startled by the unexpected response then he too smiled. "I'm sure," he said quietly. "Well, whatever your reasons, you spared my brother and myself, and our friends, and for that I owe you."

"You owe me nothing I assure you."

"Then I owe myself and the memory of my brother."

"That's your problem," Garak was dismissive.

Bes glanced back over his shoulder. "Let him go, Jolam." There were dissenting murmurs from the others. "Let him go, Jolam. I don't want him on my conscience." The seconds dragged out for an eternity before Jolam nodded to the others and the hands holding Garak reluctantly released their captive. "Let the human go too."

Bashir drew a sigh of relief as his arms were freed. He straightened up and tore the blindfold from his eyes and immediately sought out Garak to reassure himself that the Cardassian was all right. His unspoken question was met by a nod indicating that he was.

"Go, quickly before we change our minds!" Jolam shoved Garak angrily, unhappy that he had been forced to give up his prize. "But next time, Cardassian, next time ..." He left the threat hanging. "And, as for you, Federation, you should choose your friends more carefully. If not ...," he drew his thumb across his throat, the message clear enough. Bashir and Garak slowly backed away, alert for any further trouble.


	5. Chapter 5

**REPRISE – CHAPTER 5**

Suddenly there was a yell from further down the pathway. "Halt, Security!" As quickly as the gang had appeared, the gang melted into the shadows. "Get after them!"

A Bajoran security officer appeared. "Are you all right?"

Bashir nodded, "Yes, thank you." He turned to his companion, "Garak?"

"I'm fine, Doctor."

The Bajoran blinked in surprise. "I wasn't aware that there was a Cardassian in the area!" He managed to make the word Cardassian sound like a curse.

"And I wasn't aware that Cardassian visitors were required to register with the local security forces. If so, I apologise for the oversight." Garak knew, of course, that there was no such requirement, he would not have been so foolish to make such a mistake.

Any reply the Bajoran officer may have made was curtailed by the return of his men who dragged Jolam between them. "We caught this one, sir, the others got away."

The officer turned back to Bashir and Garak. "I'll need a statement from you and descriptions of the rest of your attackers."

"Attackers? Whatever do you mean?" asked Garak blankly.

"The gang that just tried to rob and kill you. They would have done if we hadn't intervened."

"Rob and kill us?" Garak's tone was now one of astonishment. "I'm sorry but you are mistaken, no-one has tried to rob and kill us."

The officer spluttered angrily. "Look we've been after this gang of petty thieves for months. Now they've turned violent. You can help us catch them before someone really gets hurt!"

"I regret that we are unable to assist you. We know nothing of any 'gang', this young man and his friends were simply giving us directions back to the Tozhat Resettlement Centre." He smiled disarmingly. "Now, if there's nothing else, we'll be on our way."

"What about you? Do you have anything to say?" Bashir shrugged unwilling to say the lie out loud. "Dumb as well as blind, eh? Go on, get out of here before I arrest you both for obstruction." He turned on Jolam angrily. "You ... If I see your face around here again I'll lock you up and throw away the key, witnesses or no witnesses. Understand?"

"Yessir!" Jolam backed away unable to believe his luck, then turned and ran.

"Garak, why didn't you tell him what happened?"

"Doctor, why didn't you?"

"Well, I ... I don't really know. I should have."

"I'm surprised at you, Doctor! Do you really think that we should have turned Jolam and those other 'poor little orphans' over after they had just let us go when they could so easily have killed us?"

Bashir smiled. "Cardassian honour?"

"No, Doctor, Cardassian self-interest."

"What do you mean?"

"Doctor, why did those people spare our lives?"

"Because you spared those children during the occupation ... but why did you?"

"As I told you on a previous occasion, and them today, I was cold and hungry."

"Ah ha!"

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Bashir assured him whilst trying not to laugh. "And today, why didn't you turn them over to the authorities?"

"I simply do not like owing anyone anything, Doctor, particularly something as important as my life. One never knows when one will be called upon to repay the debt, and when repayment is called for it may be expensive. After today they owe me – a much more satisfactory arrangement."

"You know something? I think you missed your real vocation, Garak."

Garak knew full well that he was being baited but was enjoying himself too much to avoid the trap. He willingly jumped in. "Really?"

"Yes, you should have been an actor ... on second thoughts, that's exactly what you are, isn't it, Garak? Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy ... just how many roles have you played?"

The Cardassian played his part out to the end as custom now demanded. "Why, Doctor, whatever can you mean?"

Bashir laughed and slapped him on the back, causing him to wince. He rubbed the back of his neck where the blow had caught him.

Bashir touched the large bump. "Ouch! Come on, let's get back – I want to run my medical scanner over that thick skull of yours. I don't know about you but I'm starving! I hope Deela saved us some of that pie!" He rubbed his stomach in anticipation. "Oh, and Garak, on the subject of Deela – do you think you could try to be a little more understanding of her position? It's not easy for her here you know. She might not be very diplomatic at times but, if there's one thing I do know it's that she really does care for the children, Cardassian as well as Bajoran – which is a damn sight more than most people do! Try to be less ... more ..," he fished for the right words.

"Yes, Doctor." He caught Bashir by the elbow. "I don't think that we should say anything about this little incident in front of the children – we wouldn't want to upset or frighten them unnecessarily."

"No, of course not, but we should mention it to Deela so she can keep an eye out for any trouble."

"You know, you are right – I do feel rather hungry, must be all this unaccustomed exercise!"

* * * * * * * *

Next morning after breakfast Bashir and Garak began stowing their belongings aboard the runabout aided by stream of young helpers. When the last of the containers was in place the children rallied round Garak demanding to know when they would see him again. For once in his life he was unsure what to say and looked toward Bashir for guidance. Bashir in turn looked to Deela. The children as observant as ever missed none of these exchanges and looked at her expectantly. Although common sense told her that she should tell the Cardassian not to return, she found that she could not deny the children.

"I am sure that Mr Garak is a very busy man but perhaps when he has some spare time he would like to visit again?"

All eyes now turned to Garak who swallowed as a surge of unfamiliar emotion filled him. "I would be honoured." This time the sincerity of his words rang true and the children danced around him in delight. He held up his hands as he tried to calm them down, "Children, children ...." He gave up.

Bashir beamed at Deela. "Well, we must be on our way," he reached out and took her hand in his. "Thank you."

"Next time, Doctor, give me a little warning before springing one of your surprises on us, please?" She gently reclaimed her hand.

"I won't make any promises, but I doubt if I could top this one anyway. Well, goodbye." He made his way to the door of the runabout and reached into a bag lying there. He smiled as he heard Garak saying his goodbyes. "Garak, you forgot this." He held out a box which Garak immediately recognised as the one containing junja sticks. This time Garak took it from him and began handing the sweets out to the children. After a few moments, he called out, "Come on, Garak, or I'll be late for my next duty shift."

Bashir looked up as Garak joined him in the cockpit as he began powering up the engines for the return flight to Deep Space Nine.

"Well, you are looking remarkably pleased with yourself," observed Garak as he settled down into his seat.

"Yes, I am!" Bashir relaxed back in his seat, "For once I really think that I've achieved something here and it's all down to you"

"Just do me one favour, Doctor."

"What's that?"

"Please don't tell anyone on the Station – I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation for nefarious skulduggery! It has after all served me so well." He held out a junja stick to Bashir, "Here I saved one for you."

"Thank you, my friend."

"My pleasure, Julian."


End file.
